The Taste
by IUsedToHaveALife
Summary: One taste and Hermione's addicted. No one suspected it.
1. Prologue

Hermione laid on the familiar white sheets that felt cold on her bare body. These sheets should feel unfamiliar, in fact, they should feel like dirt against her skin. However, in reality it was the exact opposite. They were cold, yes, but also soft, as if she was laying on a fluffy cloud. Everything she was doing felt wrong, but she had never been more free or felt more alive. Her head was saying no but her heart was telling a completely different story. She could have easily moved, run away, or bundle up in the sheets to make herself feel more comfortable. But there she laid motionless under a thin layer of linen that stretched across her body. Was it her guilt and shame made her paralyzed?

She replayed images in her head of what had occurred just hours ago in the bed that she was lying in now. She felt disgusted with herself, remembering almost every detail. A shiver shot through her body making her eyes close tightly. Was it from the cold breeze or fear of imagining what would happen if people found out? She never thought in her life that she would have committed a horrible act. It was so captivating. The bliss, freedom, and euphoria she had never experienced before. After she woke up though, it filled her with humiliation and terror. At first it was a one time thing, which both them believed was a mistake, but then it happened again and again. Slowly turning into once every few months, then once a month, once a week, until it became every other day. Just the thought of how things escalated in the course of a little over a year. It made her sick to her stomach. What if someone found out? What would happen to her life?

Hermione clutched her left hand around the edge of the sheet and rolled it into a small ball that fit into the palm of her hand. She held that piece tightly against her bare chest, forcing the wetness in her eyes back. She never meant for it happen. She looked at on top of the dresser across from her where some of her belongs ended up. It was a dainty little thing, didn't cost much and it wasn't the most attractive pick. Ron wanted to marry her almost immediately after the war ended, and although he didn't have money, it was meant to be a symbol. Perhaps she shouldn't have rushed into the whole thing, but after being surrounded by death and destruction, Hermione wanted something happy. She did love Ron, at least when they got married she did. But before Rose's birth, she knew their relationship was on the rocks. The adrenaline from the war and the exhilaration from the wedding had worn out. They tried everything from counseling and beyond. They had Rose as a method of hopefully bring them back together, to perhaps reignite a lost spark. But nothing had changed. Don't get her wrong, she loved her children with all her heart, but now she felt trapped. She and Ron had been together since they were teenagers and they had their ups and downs, but nothing as bad as what she was doing right now.

There was no excuse for her behavior. Her eyes wandered to the floor, she thought back to all the memories she and Ron shared, memories and emotions that are changed with time. When they got married there was something in the back of her mind telling her that they were too young for this. Not to mention that Ron was the first serious relationship she had.

She felt an arm snake around her waist and warmth in the crook of her neck. She hated the the warmth, it made her feel special and tingly when she wasn't that at all. The blonde hair tickled the back of her neck, she bit her lip stifling a giggle. She needed to get up and leave, Ron would be coming home eventually. She carefully lifted the hand the draped over her waist and set it down with success. However, getting out of the bed proved to be the challenge. Once both feet grazed the floor, there was a rustling from the figure beside her. She heard him move and then stretch with multiple grunts and groans.

"Mione..." His voice was tired, low, and raspy; making him sound extremely sexy. "What are yo..." He was too tired to finish the sentence and yawned.

"Ron's going to be home soon," Hermione said as she put on her bra, then her shirt. "I should get going," she was almost finish dressing. She dare not look at the man in the bed, so she kept moving about.

"Wait," he held out his hand waving at her weary, this cause her to slow down. "Stay..." He looked at her with yearning and caring eyes, "please, just for a little bit longer."

"Draco..." She looked back at him, which was a mistake. Her legs became weak and her stomach tickled with butterflies. She gave into his wishes and got back under covers. Draco's arms cradled her middle, his cheek rested on the top of Hermione's head. Hermione placed her hand on Draco's chest. Her fingertips could barely feel his heartbeat, slow and steady, full of life and wonder.

They laid like that for a few moments until Hermione spoke, "This is wrong." Draco was a bit taken back by her words. They knew this was true, of course, ever since the first time they did it they knew it was wrong. During the first few months, they talked about it many times, but their actions continued behind closed doors. Draco gave a slight chuckle, "I think we know this already."

She sat up and looked at Draco sternly, "I'm serious," she shook head at Darco's immaturity.

"Okay. I'm sorry. Continue, please."

"It's just," Hermione paused, trying to find the words to say, "I'm married. You're married. We have kids. We are being so selfish by not telling them, Draco." She moved her head back to the soft pillow and looked up at the ceiling going into deep thought. Her kids would be devastated if they found out. They would be forced to watched two people, who they thought love each, other separate. Rose and Hugo would quickly realize they had been lied to, and also in return having less time with their parents together. They would blame her when she came clean, but she knew it was the right thing to do. Even if it meant being hated forever. She let out a deep breath and turned onto her side, propping up her head with her arm, "I think we should tell them."

Draco was silent, he knew they would have to discuss this eventually, he just didn't know it would be so soon. "How do you think I feel?" he scoffed, trying to suppress guilt-ridden tears. He began thinking about his life with Astoria and Scorpius. He saw what a fortunate life he could have if had stayed committed to his wife. Yes, it would have been easy and pleasant, but once he got the first taste Hermione's lips, he was addicted. He realized he would never truly love his wife the same way he did Hermione.

They were married out of blood status, a prearranged event that was placed the moment Astoria was conceived. Their relationship was proven to be happy in the most conventional ways; they shared the same beliefs (having a more tolerant ideal of blood status after the war), political views, and had a similar intelligence level. On paper the two were a match for each other, but Astoria didn't challenge Draco and they were too perfect for each other. Draco knew that if he hadn't married into a pure bloodline, his parents would shun him forever and he'd live life in exile. It was a harsh reality to face, his parents wanted the best for Draco; even if their ideals were a tad skewed in some ways. In order for Draco to be accepted, he had to carry on the pureblood family line.

Draco faced her lover, positioning himself the same way Hermione had, "Alright, if we must, we will in two days."

"Two days means two days worth of more lies."

"Please, Granger," Draco moved a stary piece of her messy hair behind her ear, "I would rather have one more night with you than anything in the world."

"Alright, under one condition," she paused, "would you please stop calling me Granger, I'm a Weasley legally."

"Never," Draco smirked as they both leaned into a passionate kiss. After a few more kisses he pulled away, "stay the night…"

There was hesitation, "What will I tell Ron?"

Again silence.

"That you had a lots of work you wanted to finish before the weekend and you fell asleep at your desk. Besides," he inched closer and began kissing her from her collar bone, up her neck until he reached her jawline. Between each kiss he said a word, "You. Need. To. Relax." Hermione couldn't help be moan as delicate kisses were placed on her sensitive skin. He pulled away just enough for his hot breath to hit her skin, "I take that as a yes," Draco knew she couldn't resist.

"You talk too much," Hermione pushed Draco onto his back and got on top of him sealing the deal with a passionate kiss.


	2. Fountain of Fair Fortune

About 2 years ago...

Pain. Unimaginable pain. Bellatrix laughing in her ear at the pain, She yelled the question repeatedly in her ear. Hermione just wanted it to stop, tears streaming down her face. This was the first time she felt truly defenseless, the first time she badly wanted to die. To give up so the pain would stop, so she could stop fighting. There was no convincing Bellatrix no matter what she said. The crucio curse was too much and Hermione was unable to move, frozen in pain and fear. She looked down at the blood on her arm, remnants of tears blurring out most of the branding.

Her eyes shot open as she quickly jolted upright from the bed. It took her a moment to realize the war was won a long time ago and she was safe in her bed. As if to double check, Hermione lifted her arm, holding it by her wrist with her other hand. There in faint scar marks that had the writing, "mudblood". It served as a constant reminder of that night and her dirty blood that contaminated her body. Some nights she could go along fine with herself and her blood status, but there were times, specifically after those dreams, where she felt like the most disgusting creature on the planet.

She looked over to find the space next to her bed finding it empty. Ron had been gone for a week now on a case that he said would only take a day. Of course she didn't blame Ron for things like this. It was a rare occurrence that Ron would be out of the house for so long, she knew that Ron was out with his best friend solving crimes in the wizarding world, and she was proud of Ron for all the hard work he occasionally does. There were times when Hermione enjoyed the independence when he was gone, however, it was nights like these when she needed Ron. She needed a shoulder to cry on and someone to tell her everything was okay. Although, Hermione was indeed contradicting herself. She was craving Ron's comfort when she hadn't even told him about the reoccurring nightmares. This was something she wanted to take care of herself. Ron did not need to worry and get involved, there were far more important things to worry about, like Rose and Hugo and her work. By keeping these things in mind she could be distracted from the minor nuisance in her head.

Tears slipped down her cheeks, this nightmare was more vivid and realistic than the previous ones she had experienced. Hermione got out of bed and went over to her medicine cabinet in the bathroom. Although there were many magical methods for Hermione's relief, Muggle medication was the one of the few things she didn't keep in the Muggle world after discovering she was a witch. Hermione opened the bottle and tilted it into her hand only to have nothing came out. This was the one thing she hated about Muggle medicine. Groaning, she placed the lid back on the bottle and stored it back into the cabinet. Hermione decided she would not be able to go back to bed and changed into something more socially appropriate. After changing, she grabbed her wand and told her free, paid house elf, Dotty, to watch the kids and she was heading out to run errands. Dotty insisted that she could do the errands, Hermione thanked Dotty for the offer but declined. She felt bad about leaving her children alone, but she was justifying herself by needing fresh air to clear her mind. She started walking around the town trying to put her mind at ease. The images haunted her, how even after all these years she was still thing about the Battle of Hogwarts.

She stopped after who knows how long outside a pub with a sign that read "The Fountain of Fair Fortune". If it weren't for the nightmare that still swirled in her mind, Hermione would've never stepped inside, then again, if it weren't for the nightmares, she would've never would've left her bed. Letting the door shut behind her, Hermione took a seat at the bar and ordered a Firewhisky. After she got the glass, Hermione immediately downed it. Tonight was definitely not a typical night. The first one was just to get the bite out as quick as she could, the others she took a bit slower with a draught of beer. It didn't take longer than an hour for Hermione to start feeling a whole lot better. She let the alcohol drip away all her horrible thoughts until it was just her, the glass, and the bar man. At one point she looked over to see a white haired man enter the pub. Draco Malfoy. Just seeing his face was enough to sober her up a little, feeling the slight sobriety kick in she quickly took another shot.

As if Draco had sensed her presences he saw her and walked over. Curiosity leading him to the former Hogwarts student in her year. It wasn't like Granger to be seen in the middle of the night at a bar. "Fancy seeing you here, Granger," he set his coat down and took a seat.

"I could say the same about you Malfoy," it was evident from her words she was drunk, "and it's Weasley now."

"Right, Granger, I just think it's odd to randomly find a face in a crowd like this who you don't see in a place like this." Draco finally ordered a Dragon Scale ale from the bar man. "How about I keep you company. They say it's never good to drink alone."

Hermione puffed, "And why do you care?" She asked spitefully as she took a sip from her beer.

"Not saying I do, but it's polite to offer."

"Right, you, polite." "Yes, Granger, I was raised in a polite society where offering your company to others was-"

"Will you stop calling me that?" Hermione slammed her bottle down. "After I asked you not to call that, you continuously do it. You're like a child!"

Draco scoff, "You know what, fine, be that way. I was just trying to be nice, but you can forget it."

He got up from the stool and was about to leave when Hermione grabbed his arm. "Wait," she took a breath, "I'm sorry." The breath didn't seem to help, tears threatened to spill again. "I had a rough night," Draco sat back next to Hermione. He was curious to say the least. It wasn't often Draco had a nice chat with a member of the Golden Trio. In fact, none of them ever got to talk as equal. He never really had interest in the past, but in this moment, sitting next to an intoxicated Hermione Granger, or now Hermione Weasley as she wanted to be called, he couldn't help but to be the tiniest bit intrigued. "Why are you here? It's three in the morning?"

"Actually," Draco took a look a his watch, "It's closer to five."

"Same question still applies," Hermione slurred her words. Although she couldn't believe how much time had passed. Had she really been drinking that long? Well that explained a lot.

"Astoria and I had a fight, she thinks I spend too much time with my collections," Draco took a sip from his drink.

"Collections?" "It's nothing, really," another sip. "Your turn, why are you drunk at a pub so early in the morning?"

Hermione was silent, now embarrassed as to how she trying to solve her problems. "Just a question, out of curiosity, do you get nightmares?"

"Why do you-"

"Just answer the question." Hermione looked at Draco sternly. It was obvious that the question was about Hermione.

"On occasion," Draco thought back to his nightmares. The last one he had was a week ago. The therapy Astoria made him attend helped, but his guilt ran far too deep to heal any wound. The nightmares weren't often, but when they came, they hit hard.

"Ron's not home at the moment, off being the brave man he's become. It's hard, though, when he is sometimes." The tears ran down her cheeks and they wouldn't stop. "It's been 10 years and I'm still terrified some days," she held her scarred arm. "This isn't me. I have to go." Hermione placed a few sickles on the counter and rushed out of the pub and down the road. Suddenly out of nowhere she was pushed against the wall and held by her shoulders, "No! Get off me!" Hermione was suddenly flashed back to when she was 18 and running away from Snatchers and trying to find the Horcruxes, when all of the sudden they are trapped. Snatchers grabbed her and her friends and they're forced to Malfoy Manor where-

"Hermione, it's me!"


End file.
